


i got a singular sensation things are moving too fast

by bookishandbossy



Series: the next four years (college au) [6]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time, I'm terrible at tagging, Mild Sexual Content, Mostly Fluff, but nothing too graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-08 18:51:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3219665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookishandbossy/pseuds/bookishandbossy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I think we should have sex.” Wait.  No.  That didn't sound seductive at all.</p>
<p>Fitz squeaked and toppled off the bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i got a singular sensation things are moving too fast

_Monday_

They were supposed to be studying. They were really, really supposed to be studying. Fitz had even come over with a new set of highlighters and everything. But he'd been wearing that soft blue sweater that matched his eyes, and giving her those “you are the center of my universe” looks, and been sprawled out across her bed in an incredibly appealing way, and one thing had led to another, and now here they were. Kissing on her bed, his sweater and her shirt somewhere on the floor, her hands in his hair, her hips tentatively pressed against his, and, much to her disappointment, Fitz was behaving himself. 

Jemma had been dropping hints for the past two weeks, ever since Fitz's roommate Mack had announced that he was going home for Columbus Day and Jemma had spotted her opportunity. But when she'd casually suggested that she could stay over that weekend, Fitz had just nodded happily and then asked her what she'd gotten for question seventeen. Clearly, her attempts at a significant tone and a suggestive raised eyebrow had failed completely. When she'd told Skye about what had happened, her roommate had laughed so hard that she nearly choked on an olive and had suggested that Jemma try being a little more direct. (Only in fewer, and much ruder, words.) So she'd decided to take the initiative. Without “jumping his bones”. (That was so freshman year.) 

Jemma had begun by talking a lot about trust and mutual respect and next steps, curled up with him and resting her hand just above the waist of his jeans, and Fitz had just gazed up at her with big worried blue eyes and asked her if she'd changed her mind about getting an apartment off campus together next year. She'd been too busy reassuring him and plotting out how they were going to organize their bookshelves to remember about seducing him. Then she'd tried skimming her hand over his belt buckle suggestively, only to feel him shift away from her with a blush and a mumbled apology. Afterward, she'd gone out and, in a fit of frustration, bought two new sets of overly complicated lingerie, to go in the drawer full of lacy bra and knicker sets that were in serious danger of going unappreciated.

Just say it, she told herself as Fitz pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder and murmured compliments against her skin, one hand securely wrapped around the curve of her waist to hold her close and the other playing with the lace of her bra strap as he slid it off her shoulder. _You're an adult, just say it. Just say it, just say it, just--_ “Okay?” he whispered.

“I think we should have sex.” Wait. No. That didn't sound seductive at all.

Fitz squeaked and toppled off the bed.

“Fitz? Are you okay?” she called, leaning over to pull him up. He was still staring at her, his mouth hanging wide open. “Did you hit your head on something?”

“No, no, I'm fine,” he mumbled and scrambled back up to the bed. “Did you really just, um, say that you, um, wantedtohavesexwithme? Or was it an auditory hallucination? I totally understand if it was an auditory hallucination.”

“If it was an auditory hallucination, then it was a joint one,” she said. Wait. No. “I mean yes. Yes, I want to.”

“Right now?”

“Not right now!” Jemma stammered, blushing, and crossed her arms over her chest. “And you don't have to look so terrified about it.”

“I was not terrified!” Fitz protested loudly. “I was unprepared. You can't just spring something like that on someone. And yes, I've been doing research but that doesn't mean that I was ready for you to declare open season on sexcapades at any random moment!”

“You were doing research?” Jemma beamed at him and decided to ignore his questionable word choice. Fitz doing research was adorable. And alarming, once she realized what the research meant. (She'd never taken someone's virginity before—was there some kind of special ritual for it? Would he expect candles and rose petals?) “So you've really never...you haven't,” If you want to despoil him, Jemma, you should be able to say it. “You're still a virgin?”

“I was a child prodigy and then I was in love with you so...” He always said it so simply, like it was the easiest thing in the world to be in love with her, when she knew that it wasn't, and she always felt the same jolt of excitement slide up her spine, the same giddy sense that she'd had a marvelous stroke of good luck. “Not very many opportunities there and even if I'd had them...I wanted it to be you. I wanted everything to be with you.” Of course, Jemma had to kiss him then, climbing into his lap and wrapping herself around him, because he was the biggest, most perfect sap she had ever met. 

“Well, Leo Fitz, you happen to be a very lucky man,” she whispered when she pulled away. “And by the time this week is over, I promise you that you'll get absolutely everything.”

Fitz squeaked again.

_Tuesday_

“I want to do this, Fitz,” Jemma said from the floor. “Trust me. I'm very good at this and I'm about 99.9% sure that you'll like it and if you like it, I'll definitely like doing it.”

“What's the 0.01% for then?” Fitz asked, fidgeting on the edge of her bed. He was nervous, she realized, so she slid a hand up to rest on top of his and squeezed tight. 

“In case you're part of the 0.01% of men who doesn't like being sucked off,” she said matter-of-factly. Fitz made an odd little moan. “Apparently not.” She flicked open the button and the zipper of his jeans with her free hand and he gaped down at her. Jemma just stared back up at him as she pushed his jeans and boxers down his hips and dared him to look away—lately, she'd been keeping her eyes open more and more, cataloging every reaction and memorizing him in every way she could, all lips and hands and eyes. He made another noise in the back of his throat and knotted his other hand in the sheets.

“Shouldn't I, um, be doing something like this for you? This seems a little unfair,” he said weakly. “I did all kinds of research on reciprocity and the women's magazines said that—oh god!” If she could have grinned, Jemma would have. Instead, she just lowered her mouth further down until she felt him hit the back of her throat and listened to his gasps. Because, objectively, she knew she was good at this and the appreciative noises that previous boyfriends had made had simply confirmed it. But none of them had ever opened their eyes to stare down at her with such blatant adoration and none of their gasps had ever sounded like “I love you”. 

So Jemma redoubled her efforts, swirling her tongue around the head of his cock and sliding back down to take all of him into her mouth, faster and faster until the only sound he could make was her name and his hands were cupping the back of her head and tangled in her hair and she was already planning what she'd do to him after this and—there was a key turning in the lock. There was a key turning in the lock. 

“Surprise! I came back early and I even brought back pumpkin spice—oh my god!” Skye screamed and clapped her hands over her eyes. “Jemma, we talked about this! Sock. On door. It's not that hard. Unlike other things I can think of, because I now have the world's most disturbing mental picture seared across my retinas...Jemma, you're going to have to pay for years of therapy, okay? Years! Or drinks. Lots and lots of drinks.”

“Skye?” Jemma said in a strangled-sounding voice. “Could you please go outside and give us a minute?”

“Honestly, you guys are like bunnies. On the outside, you seem all cute and sweet and fluffy but underneath you're raging sex maniacs who--”

“Skye!”

“Right. Okay. Going outside.”

_Wednesday_

“I triple locked the door,” Fitz informed her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the back of her neck. “I even asked Mack how he'd feel about the idea of putting in a retinal scanner. He vetoed it for now, but I'm working on him.”

“I'm not sure how Res Life would feel about that,” Jemma teased and twisted around in his arms to lean her head against his shoulder. “I am sorry about yesterday, you know. It was my fault, I should have texted Skye or--”

“It was an accident,” he reassured her, then added smugly. “Although it does prove my point about the retinal scanner.” 

“No,” Jemma shook her head firmly. “No retinal scanners. We just have to wait two more days and then we'll have the entire weekend to ourselves.” She reasoned that if she'd made it through months and months of being sexually frustrated, she could certainly wait two more days. She was an almost-trained scientist with will power. Lots of will power. “We should probably just hang out tonight—we can watch a movie after we finish this problem set?” 

Much to their credit, they made it through the problem set. But while Fitz was browsing through Netflix, brow furrowed adorably in concentration as he considered their selection of classic 80's movies, she couldn't resist leaning forward to kiss a line down his neck, teeth gently scraping against the spot where his neck met his shoulder, the one that made him groan every time. She was just testing that this hypothesis was still true, of course. And once she'd confirmed that reaction, she had to check on the rest of them, of course. It was practically her duty to science.

For instance, right now, she could confirm that kissing his neck while unbuttoning his shirt with one hand and sliding the other below the waistband of his jeans would result in him spinning around, pressing her down into the bed, and kissing her with wild enthusiasm, tongue sweeping into her mouth and hand slowly inching up her thigh. Jemma was very glad to be correct. “Okay?” he whispered into her mouth.  
“Better than okay,” she said and clutched his shoulders more tightly as his hand climbed another inch. She'd been watching his hands for months, as he carefully made repairs to delicate devices, and she'd been dreaming about them for longer than that, waking up from strange dreams with a flushed face and the sheets twisted around her waist, and now his hand was nearly brushing against just where she wanted it, and she had to shut her eyes against it all and—there was someone knocking on the door.

“Fitz?” Mack called. “Hey, man, I'm really sorry to do this, but I think I forgot my paper on my desk. And my umbrella. And my graphing calculator got lost somewhere under my bed and it might take a while to find it and--” Jemma pressed her face into Fitz's pillow and silently screamed.

_Thursday_

“Um, you might want to try moving a little bit further up,” Jemma suggested tentatively.

“It's delayed gratification, Jemma. I'm getting there,” he grumbled from between her legs.

“Well, you could get there a little faster.”

“I think you just like arguing with me too much.”

“Do not,” she snapped.

“Do too.”

“Do no--” She moaned. Rather loudly. “Leopold Fitz, I swear if you don't do that again right now, I'm going to die from sexual frustration, come back as a ghost, and haunt you.”

_Friday_

“I can't believe that you forgot to buy condoms.” They were sitting side-by-side on his bed, perched carefully on the edge to avoid scattering the rose petals (of course Fitz had remembered the roses and not the condoms), and Jemma was seriously contemplating making a sacrifice to the sex gods. If there was such a thing as sex gods? Who clearly had it in for her and Fitz.

“I thought that you were going to buy condoms. Or that you had a bunch left over from the time when you were being a sex goddess,” he said. She poked him and he yelped much more loudly than the occasion demanded. “I'm sure that you're still a sex goddess. A sex goddess of sex goddesses.”  
Jemma accepted his praise graciously.

“I thought that I had some left over too. Skye must have stolen them...Which means,” Jemma grinned widely at him. “That she owes me condoms!”

“Aren't our RA's supposed to give us condoms? Promoting safe sex?” Fitz said weakly, wincing at the thought of involving Skye again. After what had happened on Tuesday, Skye had started alternating between shooting finger guns and making bunny ears at him whenever she saw him and had told him to “go get it, tiger”. Repeatedly. Loudly. In public spaces.

“There are never any condoms in the free condoms envelope. It's a fundamental college truth.” Jemma typed furiously on her phone, hitting the shift key so often that her phone eventually gave up on making the appropriate noise. “Besides, she'll be here in five minutes and she has a full box.”

“A, um, a full box?” It was overflowing, in fact, as they found out when Skye tossed the box in through the inch of open door with another extended series of rabbit comparisons and a detailed description of the kind of favor she expected in return, and the condoms went flying all over the floor. 

“You owe me!” Jemma shouted back and knelt to organize the condoms neatly, waving Fitz away when he tried to help and insisting that she had a system. She had a system for everything, Fitz thought, and he wasn't sure if he loved it or if it drove him crazy. In a good way. Everything about Jemma was in a good way. 

“All done,” she announced and turned to face him, and all of a sudden they both had to catch their breath. Because this was real and this was here and this was now and she felt like they were meeting all over again, smiling shyly at each other from either side of a door and on the verge of something crazy and wonderful. “Hi,” she whispered.”I'm Jemma.”

“Hi,” he whispered back and moved to kiss her. “I'm Leo.”

They kissed for what felt like hours, standing there in the middle of his room, arms wrapped around each other, soft and slow and sweet and like time had slowed down. When she finally broke away to unzip her dress and let it fall to the floor, he just looked at her, bringing a hand up to cup her face and whispering how lucky he was, until Jemma slowly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled him towards the bed, assuring him that she was luckier.

They kept the lights on, because this was something she didn't want to do in the dark and because, truthfully, even if she had, she was too wrapped up in him to even bother reaching for the switch. He worked over her with hands and mouth until she was spread out against the sheets, pressing his hips against hers and catching her gasps with his mouth. When he finally moved to settle between her legs, she was more than ready and he was trying his best to be, taking deep nervous breaths and screwing his eyes shut as he brushed against her and hesitated.

“I love you,” he murmured. “I just wanted to say it—before.”

“I love you too,” Jemma said softly. “Maybe it'll be a little weird, or a little awkward at first, but it'll be us and that means it'll all work out in the end. Don't worry about anything—just look at me, okay?” She reached down to guide him in and oh—this had always been the part she liked best, that sudden, dizzying realization that they were separate and the same all at once. The feeling of being as close to him as she possibly could get. 

“Hey,” she whispered. “Open your eyes. I'm right here.”

Fitz opened his eyes and thought that he'd never want to look at anyone else.


End file.
